


Bell the Cat

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Dollface (TV 2019)
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Collars, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dom/sub, F/M, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Heavy BDSM, Leashes, Master/Pet, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Party, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Wes meets a girl dressed as a cat at a Halloween party and decides to tame her.
Relationships: Wes & Reader, Wes & You, Wes/Reader, Wes/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Bell the Cat

Halloween is an interesting time of year. The one night when you can truly be whatever you want. You can learn so much about a person based purely on the costume they choose to wear. In my case, it meant that I was quite possibly the most basic bitch in the house.

I say almost, because there was another person in the house that might have had a bigger claim to that title. The costume in question was a single sticker stuck to the front of a shirt. The man wearing it, however, got away with wearing such ridiculous attire for one reason, and one reason only: he was, by far, the most attractive man in the building. Possibly the whole world. 

Unfortunately, he also happened to be ruining the image. In the middle of a house filled with people looking for any possible distraction from the life we led during the other 364 days of the year, this man was lounging on the couch and staring intently at his phone. It simply would not do; I would not let this beautiful man spoil my idealistic expectations for the night by being hung up on something else.

So, discarding any remaining inhibitions that persisted despite the copious amounts of alcohol, I marched right up to him and took a seat on his lap. Somewhat surprisingly, he didn’t immediately push me off. In fact, he didn’t really react at all. He just sat there, staring at me with raised eyebrows and a slight smile.

“Can I give you a word of advice?” I asked, wrapping one arm around his shoulder.

He watched the precarious hold I had on the plastic cup in my hand, but then looked back up at me with a chuckle. Again, he didn’t make a single indication of discomfort. He just maintained that goofy look with a smile that continued to grow wider. 

“Uh… Sure?”

“What’s your name?”

His tongue swept over his lips before he answered me. “Wes,” he said, finally bringing a hand up to rest against my hip and keep me from falling.

“Okay, Wes,” I started, scooting even closer to him now that he had displayed at least a sliver of interest. “My word of advice: stop checking your phone. She’s not going to text you back.”

“Well—“ he started, but I swiftly cut him off with a finger on his lips. The little smirk had stretched into a full, toothy smile. It shouldn’t have been possible to literally be attracted to someone’s teeth, and yet all I could think about was him sinking them into my skin. I tried not to let it distract me. It barely worked.

“No, okay, listen. I bet I know exactly what kind of girl this is.” I paused to clear my throat and take a drink. Once I had finished, he held his hand out to me. I slowly lowered my drink into his hand, which he then rested against the seat next to us.

“Please, continue,” he instructed.

“Okay. I bet you met her recently and she seemed great; the total package. Then something sort of weird happened and now she’s totally ghosting you, and only calls you when it’s convenient which seems super random.”

The subtle sadness covering his features told me that I was right. I almost felt bad about it, too, having obviously dampened his spirits, but I also knew that I could lift them up again. And that part would be way, way more fun for both of us.

Pressing on, I let my now free hand follow the patterns on his shirt. “And when you _do_ see her, it’s never really all that satisfactory, but you let it go because you really want it to go somewhere it was never going to go.”

Wes tilted his head back and forth, contemplating something that I couldn’t really figure out. The way his grip loosened over my hip told me one thing, but the playfulness in his eyes told me another.

“Come on. How close am I?” I asked, shifting my hip to bump his lightly. That made his hand move again, and it certainly didn’t get gentler. His fingers dug into me for just a brief second before he let go again.

“I’m… actually texting my mom,” he explained through stifled laughter. “But I _really_ love your confidence.”

I cringed despite joining in the giggles, “Wow. Swing and a miss.”

“A really good swing, though. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, what can I say? I’ve got quite an arm.” I held up my arm to show my impressive lack of muscles, but I watched the way his eyes fell straight to my chest, instead. A hilarious but adorable lack of subtlety that I would excuse for him, for now.

“Okay, so, new advice for you, Wes.”

“Lay it on me,” he responded without hesitation.

“Instead of texting your mother, who I’m sure is an absolute gem, how about you leave your phone in your pocket and try to enjoy this horribly tacky Halloween party with me?” Gesturing to the party surrounding us was probably not the best idea while drunk, because even with his arm around me, I still almost managed to topple backwards of his lap. Luckily, I didn’t fall too far, and when Wes pulled me back up, he didn’t stop at my previous position.

He pulled me much, much closer.

“I don’t know,” he whispered in the little space that remained between us, “it’s a very riveting conversation.”

“What’s it about?”

“I…” Wes paused, his mouth hanging open for a moment before closing in a pout that quickly flattened. “You know what, yeah, let’s hang out. No more texting.”

And that, my friends, is what we call a terrible cover.

“Oh, no, now I want to know!” I said through an excited gasp. To think, he was considering hiding something interesting from me, the most interesting person in this room by far.

“Fine. I’ll tell you,” he sighed. Before he continued, though, he brought my drink back to me along with an accusing finger. “But only if you promise not to give any more advice. So far it has been very questionable.”

“I promise,” I giggled, grabbing my drink and beginning to sip it in hopes of stopping any commentary I might otherwise want to give. But then he just had to say the one thing that was guaranteed to get a response.

“I’m texting my mom… about the girl you described.”

After almost choking on my drink, I pulled both arms back just to wave them in front of him in something that was supposed to demonstrate just how much I hated everything he’d just said.

“Boooo!” I yelled.

“Hey! You said no advice!”

“That’s not advice!” I corrected, “it’s festive and appropriate commentary! Boooo!”

“I know, I know. But hey, look on the bright side. I agreed to hang out with you instead.”

There was something about the way he said it, the way that his body relaxed again after the excitement; for the first time since I’d sat down, I realized just how comfortable I was with him. And it wasn’t just the alcohol or attraction — it was like there was some weird pheromone he put off that made me docile.

While I was coasting somewhere in the clouds of my thoughts, Wes had taken it upon himself to fix my cat ears that had shifted as a result of my theatrics. I barely noticed he’d moved until his hand ran down my jaw in its retreat.

“So what do you want to do?” He asked, earning an immediate scoff from me.

“I have to entertain you?”

“The tacky party itself isn’t going to do it.”

It was a compelling argument. I looked around at the fake cobwebs already covered with glitter from the girls’ costumes and the sticky surface of the table, and saw potential.

“You wanna bet?” I dared him, and with a scrunched up, mischievous stare, he nodded.

“Yeah. I do.”

The next couple of hours went by in an alcohol-induced blur. I might have stopped to regret that I would forget so many details of the night, but I was having too much fun to even think about it. In those hours, the two of us managed to lose terribly at three rounds of beer pong, only barely avoid darts thrown by very drunk idiots, and judge a very secret costume contest that no one knew about besides us. It was more fun than I’d had in a very long time. I guess when you’re with the right person, even the most inane things can be fun.

That was the only innocent thought still running through my head by the time we returned to the same couch at which we’d started. Having both hands free and a bolder mindset now, I was able to touch him like I’d wanted to before. One hand ran up the back of his neck, tangling in the mousy brown curls while the other traced the edges of the name tag on his shirt.

“Are your hands normally this impulsive, or is it just because of the alcohol?”

He didn’t ask the right question. If he’d asked, ‘ _or is it just because of me?_ ’ I wouldn’t have been able to lie. But he didn’t ask that, and so I took an easy way out.

“Always. I’m a wild creature,” I purred, pausing to take a minute to read the name tag. Of course, once I did that I was barely able to speak through the laughter. “… Franklin.”

His chuckle at the fake name was short-lived. I wasn’t complaining, though, because in its place came a suddenly serious, somewhat contemplative look in his eyes. It was the kind of look that stirred something inside of you, warning you to run away. But like a deer in the headlights, I stared straight into the light of his eyes.

“Why do I feel like taming you would be like belling the cat?”

I swallowed hard to try and remove the lump in my throat, and in the process, I drew his eyes down to the collar around my neck. It was enough of a jumpstart that I was no longer paralyzed by his gaze. Knocking into the small bell I wore, I deadpanned, “What are you talking about? I already put a bell on for you.”

“Is that what you’re supposed to be?” He laughed, “A _cat_?”

Trying not to take offense at his obvious mockery, I stuck my nose in the air before I answered, “Rude. I am obviously a kitten.”

I already missed those eyes on mine. Even as I felt them burning into my skin strongly enough to leave scorch marks, I craved more from him. As if in response to my stray thought, Wes dug his hands into my hips, dragging me closer until our chests were pressed against one another.

“Oh, obviously?” He teased.

Unfortunately for him, I was much better at that.

“Yeah. Didn’t you see my ears and adorable little tail?” I asked innocently, sliding my hand over his on my hip and guiding it to the tail that hung over his leg. Our eyes stayed connected, and I saw them soften for just one flickering second before he returned to that steely yet somehow goofy demeanor.

“I’ve never seen a cat of any age that looked like you,” he said, leaving his hand where I’d left it.

“What are you, a cat expert?”

“A little bit, yeah,” he answered almost immediately.

The quickness managed to catch me enough off guard that I couldn’t offer a quick comeback. So, scrunching up my nose and waving a white flag, I sighed, “Fine. Tell me how to be more feline.”

“For starters? You have no whiskers.”

Wes’s hand on my face felt like fire on already flushed cheeks. My eyes fluttered shut in response. I had a feeling that was what he’d wanted to happen, because when they only opened halfway, full of longing, he smiled.

“Yeah, that’s on purpose,” I mumbled back through a lopsided grin.

“A cat with no whiskers on purpose?”

I was prepared for that question. Still, I took the time to clear my throat and wrap my arms around his shoulders before I responded. In that very brief amount of time, his hands were roaming over the thin, smooth spandex I wore, and his burning eyes kept falling to my chest.

“I figured it would be awkward, you know?” I asked, leaning forward to whisper the rest of my answer into his ear, “I mean, wouldn’t that be awkward if I ended up fucking someone tonight and I had that make up on?”

His reaction, while not what I’d hoped for, caused butterflies to fill my stomach and flutter into my chest. One lithe finger slid between the soft skin of my neck and the velvet covered collar. In a voice I wouldn’t have heard over the music if my attention had been on anything but him, he whispered, “Seems sensible, but…” 

Suddenly, he pulled me forward by the collar, my lips almost crashing into his before he jerked me to a stop. He could feel my pulse pounding against him while my chest heaved with short, heavy breaths.

“What about this?” He asked like it was the most innocent question in the world. He’d underestimated me again. He hadn’t considered just how ready I was to tease.

Dropping my tone and volume, I tilted my chin up so that my lips brushed against his when I said, “That’s not part of the costume.”

The bulge I’d been resting against in his pants was impossible to ignore, but somehow Wes’s demeanor remained almost completely unaffected. I say almost because I could still make out the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“No?” He whispered, and I heard the second question implicit in the word.

I shook my head no to confirm, our noses brushing against each other and his stubble tickling my lips. I thought my desire was obvious in every fiber of my being, but Wes still took the effort to lock our gazes again. His finger slipped from the collar and he cupped my face in his palm, the touch burning through me.

“Do you want to…?” He breathed, but before he could finish, I had already answered.

“Yes.”

An only slightly awkward Uber ride later, we ended up at his place. The two of us stumbled up his driveway similar to how we’d roamed the party— a mess of laughter and clinging to each other for equally unreliable support. I would blame it on the alcohol, but I honestly think most of it was just the two of us genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

When we finally, thankfully made it to the door, Wes paused. Clearing his throat after fishing his keys from his pockets, he spoke lowly and clearly in a way that made me laugh harder, “I don’t mean to ruin the mood, but my dog Ollie is definitely going to jump on you the second I open this door.”

“Is that supposed to be a dealbreaker?” I asked as the excitement took over the rest of my expression.

“I’m a little worried you might be more interested in the dog,” he explained.

“You should definitely be worried about that,” I confirmed.

The words had a somewhat unanticipated effect. Wes swept his tongue over his bottom lip, bringing it into his mouth before releasing it slowly into a smile. Some part of me wondered if it was just anticipation for the general prospect of sex, but another voice warned me that he seemed excited by the thought of me existing in his home like I belonged there.

Once the door opened, his prediction came true. Even in my drunken stupor, I was able to avoid falling and give Ollie a little bit of properly earned attention before Wes called him away. The loud whistle caused us both to react, and I was left in the foyer watching Wes control a giant dog with the sound of his voice alone.

Interesting.

The butterflies in my stomach were restless, and the feeling was only stifled by the way my heart started to pound impossibly hard when he led me to his room.

As soon as he closed the door, Wes turned to look at me with a remarkably animalistic stare. In the silence of the room, our breath and our steps seemed so much louder. I could almost still hear the party in my mind, but it stopped as soon as Wes backed me against the bed.

“You are way too good at controlling that dog of yours,” I mumbled with a little grin.

“It’s important to have well-behaved pets,” he whispered. His lips hung just over mine, and it still took me a few seconds longer to realize that in all of our flirting, we’d never actually kissed.

“Boy, do I have some bad news for you,” I teased. I didn’t mean much by it, considering all of my interactions with him so far had been… well, normal. It wasn’t until then that things started to change.

With both hands on my hips, Wes forced me to turn around. When I stumbled on my heels, he didn’t hold me steady. Instead, he pushed me forward until my hands hit the bed.

“That’s okay,” he muttered, coming up behind me and cupping my chin. He forced my face up to bare my neck before he finished with a low growl, “I’m fine with training you.”

There was no time for me to ask what he meant, or to even be surprised by the sudden darkness that he’d flipped on like a switch. As soon as my brain was finally able to register what he’d said, I heard the distinct ‘ _click_ ’ of a leash being clipped into place. Seconds after that, he held one hand on my chest and the other tugged on the lead. The pressure against my neck caused another pressure deep in my gut, and it only got worse when Wes pressed my back against his chest.

“Some brief ground rules…”

My eyes were already rolling to the back of my head, even before nimble fingers started to pull the zipper on my dress.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Please, don’t stop,” I immediately panted as my dress pooled at my feet, quickly followed by my bra. My shoes and underwear, however, remained on.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he continued with the utmost nonchalance.

_I hope it does._

I still hadn’t moved by the time he was apparently done undressing me. His hands started to roam over the newly exposed skin, testing my reactions before he finished his rules. The leash wound tighter over his hand, and I knew that because it caused my collar to rub harder against me each time.

Wes must have been watching me. He must have felt the way my thighs began to rub together and heard the almost imperceptible whimpers on my lips. Because when he was finally sated by the exploration of his hands, he pressed his lips just below my ear, giving one final rule.

“And _behave_.”

The words should have been rough and overtaken by the sound of his breath on my ear, but I heard them with perfect clarity. It was the first time in my life I’d ever wanted to follow such a blatant order, my normally rambunctious stubbornness fading into the dark of the room.

Wes took my silence as consent to his rules, and when his fingers danced over my breasts, goosebumps followed in their wake. From his low little chuckle, I’d say he liked how much my body responded to him.

“If you can do those things for me, I’ll take very good care of you. Got that?” He sounded so sweet when he said it. All I could do was nod dumbly in response, arching my back when his hand finally passed over my belly button.

“Good girl. I like it when you’re quiet,” he spoke against the skin of my shoulder, laying hot kisses up my neck. “But I bet you also make some really pretty noises.”

This man. This unbelievable man I’d met only hours before had such control over my body that I was convinced I might actually be just another animal to him. Then again, he showed such an interesting duality I wanted to chase so badly. Because while his words were rough, the hand slowly creeping into my underwear was anything but.

He ran one finger between my folds, gathering the slickness that had formed in a matter of seconds and a heavy breath left him. “Someone’s excited,” he said in a mocking sort of way, but it was clear from the erection pressed against my ass that he was just as excited as I was.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from moaning when his finger finally dipped into me. It wasn’t just the movement, but the way Wes paired it with his own moan, his kisses against my neck becoming more involved with each step. Like he was getting off purely on the fact that I was available for his consumption. I hadn’t even touched him, and yet I got the feeling he was experiencing an even greater euphoria just from commanding me however he wanted.

“Don’t tell me this is the first time you’ve ever let yourself get caught.”

I tried to laugh, but Wes chose that exact moment to tug back on the leash. “I-I…” I choked. When my hands raised, I think he expected them to go to my neck, but they didn’t. Instead, they reached back to tangle in his long curls.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get a good enough grip for what came next. Before I knew what was happening, Wes had managed to slip another finger into me, but that wasn’t the only thing that doubled. The thrusts became ruthless in their power and speed, and his hair slipped from my fingers as I fell forward against the bed, only barely stopping myself from face planting.

And of course…

“You can barely stay up. Guess it’s a good thing I have this.”

The leash helped.

I wanted to be snarky and clever, but my mind had turned to nothing from his ministrations that showed no sign of stopping. It wasn’t until my breath picked up in short, quick bursts and my stomach tensed against his arm that Wes spoke again.

“Are you gonna come, kitten?”

“Y-Yes!” I shouted back, chasing that final hill to break the tension when it happened.

Everything stopped.

The pressure around my neck disappeared and Wes abruptly halted his hand before slowly removing it from my underwear.

“Wrong answer,” he mocked in what was quite possibly the cruelest tone I’d ever heard.

“Wait, please—“

My mind was still broken and my thoughts absent beyond the intense, soul-crushing desire to fall apart at his hands. I wanted — no, needed — him to touch me again, but he kept moving further away. Barely staying upright on my heels, I spun around to chase after him when the leash wrapped halfway around my neck. 

Wes saw it before I felt it, and his hands held me in place before he used the same fingers that had been inside me to turn the collar to face forward. There was a tenderness in his eyes again as he inspected the way my eyes had watered from the overstimulation and his knuckles ran over my flushed cheeks.

“Get on your knees.”

It wasn’t what I had expected to come out of his mouth, but I wouldn’t complain. On shaky legs, I slowly lowered myself to the ground with his guidance. I can only imagine what he saw in that moment, as I bit down hard on my bottom lip and rubbed my thighs together in search of any reprieve from the lack of attention.

Whatever it was, it brought the smallest little smirk to his face when he ordered, “Stay there.” 

I watched with bated breath as he turned to walk away from me, the leash slipping from his fingers and hitting the hardwood beside me. My heart rate skyrocketed at the sound, and I wondered if this was all just a test of how much I would behave. He’d told me to stay, but then granted me the freedom to follow.

Against all of my normal impulses, I listened. I fell back on my heels and waited, not even turning to follow his body. I stared straight ahead at the dresser in front of me and waited for his voice, his touch, his anything before I allowed myself to breathe again.

His next order came in the form of a sharp whistle. Without even thinking about the connotations, my body turned to answer his call. He was still smiling as he sat on the chair in the corner of the room beside a window.

I swallowed hard as he raised his hand and curled one of those impossibly long fingers, beckoning me closer to him without ever saying a word. Like I was stuck in a trance, my hands pressed against the cool floor before I slowly padded over to him on all fours. The soft sounds of the dragging leash trailed behind me, and I tried not to seem too eager in my movements.

It was impossible. The second I’d made it to him, my face found its way between his spread legs and nuzzled against his thigh. I sat up, my fingers only barely grabbing hold of the zipper of his pants before I heard it— the distinct sound of him clicking his tongue at me.

Part of me hated the way it immediately made me stop, my hands receding despite how badly I wanted to continue.

“Awwwe,” he cooed as he reached forward, grabbing my face and looking into my eyes with a suffocating intensity. “You would do anything for me.”

From underneath his hand, I forced my jaw open, revealing my mouth and my tongue to him in what I’d hoped would be a clear indication of what I wanted. Truthfully, my desire to please him wasn’t even solely out of a hope for him to return the favor; I wanted to please him because I felt that he had deserved it.

“You already know exactly what you’re good for.” There was a dreaminess in his tone, then, as he undid his own pants with his free hand. He chuckled again at the way I whimpered when he let go of my face to pull himself free without removing any of his clothes.

But my ability to hide my zeal hit its limit, and as soon as I was able to, I leaned forward to try and get the contact I desired.

I didn’t make it. Wes immediately grabbed my hair with another loud click of his tongue, and I let out a pained whine at the sensation.

“You don’t do anything unless I tell you to,” he warned. I believed him, but it didn’t stop me from pouting when his hand slid down the back of my neck until he could grab the leash once more. Before he could move to add any pressure, I let a beg fall from my lips at the fullest volume.

“Please.”

He ignored the request almost entirely, instead withdrawing as he continued with his commands, “Show me your hands.”

I presented them to him with my wrists together and palms up, but he guided each to rest against the edge of the chair on the outsides of his legs. When I made no move to change their position, I earned the praise I so desperately sought.

“Good girl. Now leave them there. You don’t get to touch yourself.”

Although I normally would have been frustrated by the latter half of the order, I couldn’t think of anything beyond those first two beautiful words. They played on loop in my head as his hand laced through my hair until he had a firm enough grip to pull me up to where I wanted to be. Still, I waited until he pressed my mouth against the head of his dick before I parted my lips, closing around him and wrapping my tongue around him.

“Do a good enough job and maybe I’ll fuck you,” he said, somehow still composed despite my best efforts. There was a small hitch in his breath that caused pride to stir in my chest, but all attention went to my desire seconds later when he growled, “ _Maybe_.”

It was something to work towards, and work I did. With his hand pressing hard against me, I started to take him into my mouth as quickly as I could without also appearing ungrateful. I think he knew what I was doing, too, because every time I got too eager, he would pull on the leash just enough to provide the necessary feedback.

That pressure, the friction around my neck was more erotic than when his hands actually touched me. I couldn’t explain why, but for whatever twisted reason my mind wanted to settle on, the truth was that I loved the prospect of being so unequivocally his. There was nothing else on my mind in that moment outside of pleasing him.

And judging by the sounds he was making, I was succeeding. As my head bobbed, Wes let out a string of curses under his breath. At some point, my movements were less my own and more him moving my head with his grip around the lead and my hair.

When I finally felt him hit the back of my throat, I gagged. It was either the wrong move or very much the right one, but either way, he held my head down for just a second longer before he pulled me off of him entirely.

“Good girl,” he said through heavy breath, watching with a clear adoration as the spit snapped back onto my chin. He smiled, that same smile from before that made goosebumps cover my skin and cause my lungs to cease working.

“Get up and bend over the bed.”

There was no need to repeat himself. I got up so quickly that I almost forgot he was still holding onto the leash. I choked myself in my haste, earning a soft, genuinely entertained chuckle from the man. Even when I pouted, he just shook his head as if to tell me that I would get no mercy or pity that night.

That certainly didn’t change when I was finally where he wanted me, bent over and only barely keeping my heels on the floor. I realized then that must have been why he’d wanted my shoes to stay on, to spare me the torture of not being able to reach the floor if I happened to push too far up the bed.

The leash provided a new form of anticipation, albeit the opposite of what I’d gotten used to with it. That time, when the leash loosened, it meant that he was closer. When it fully slackened, I waited for the moment where he’d finally touch me again.

I still gasped when he did.

Smoothing one hand over my side, Wes hooked his thumb into the side of my underwear to start to drag it over my hips. He didn’t bother taking it any farther than necessary for his needs, but I made the effort to help shimmy them down to the floor. It made it even more satisfying when he dug his nails into the back of my thigh, dragging it up over one cheek before he roughly grabbed hold.

“If you’re already so well behaved, I wonder what else I could make you do with a little bit of discipline…”

That was the only warning I got before he let go, bringing his hand back down with a loud slap. I sobbed on a moan, which was clearly what he was after, considering he didn’t help the pain by digging his nails into the now burning skin.

He waited to let go until another pathetic plea fell from my lips, although this time it was in the form of incoherent whimpers. He didn’t say anything — just slipped his hand between my thighs from behind and drew those damned fingers between my folds.

“You’re being too quiet,” he mumbled with obvious amusement in his voice, “I want to hear how grateful you are.”

If he was expecting anything graceful or intelligent, he would be sorely mistaken. However, judging by the way his breathing picked up at the sound of my wanton moans, I’d say he was very happy with what he got. Happy enough to reward me with his fingers slipping into my heat once more.

It was even easier for him to work me up that time. He cared less about the actual pattern of his fingers and settled for sheer force and speed of the thrusts, and before I knew what was happening, I was putty in his hands.

Clearly unsatisfied with the way I buried my face into the sheets to scream, Wes tugged on the leash until my mouth was free of obstruction. But the noises that continued to spill from my throat were not what made his hand slow down and come to a halt. No, it was the way my stomach started to tense again, my legs shaking uncontrollably when he curled his fingers inside of me. 

“Beg.”

I took too long to answer, and suddenly my air supply was even more compromised by the pressure that I was starting to form a Pavlovian response to. My breath was short and frantic, and soon enough he withdrew his hand from inside me just to wrap it around my neck over the collar.

“ _Beg_.”

“Please, sir.” It was so fucking pathetic that I think he might have pitied me for just a split second before he started to laugh.

“Oh, I’m sir now?”

“Please fuck me, sir,” I begged as he’d demanded, suddenly unable to stop myself from repeating the words over and over, “Please. Please let me come.”

There was a pause, and it didn’t take me long to realize that the commotion behind me was from Wes stripping off his pants.

“It’s interesting that you think one will necessarily lead to the other,” he teased with his words before he began to tease by pressing himself against my entrance. I should have paid better attention to what he was saying, but it was impossible when my body was screaming for him to fill me in any way that he was willing. 

“Please!” I yelled with a raw, scratchy throat.

“Fine. But you don’t get to come until I tell you to,” he said, finally releasing his grip on my throat and granting me some freedom from the tightness of the leash. It wasn’t much a reprieve, though, when his voice dropped down into that dangerous register again.

“Do you understand, kitten?”

“Mmhm,” I mumbled.

My enthusiasm was, apparently, not appreciated. Just barely breaching my entrance, Wes once again paused before giving me what I wanted. “Use your words,” he practically sang in my ear. 

“Yes, sir,” I keened, “Yes, I understand.”

Then, with one swift thrust, Wes bottomed out inside of me. Immediately, my body was trembling, still on edge from the last time he’d touched me. I realized, a bit too late, that it would be much, much harder to keep my promise than I’d thought. I couldn’t be blamed for it, either. Although I knew logically that his hands were nothing compared to the size of him, it still surprised me just how well he stretched me, and just how far he reached. 

My moans were more like whines at that point, and part of me hated myself for making so much noise. Wes certainly appreciated it, but I was so desperate to hear the noises he was making. Underneath my own, I heard the labored breathing mixed with grunts and moans that sounded enough like praise for my purposes.

That was, until he gave me actual praise.

“Good girl.”

It was the push I needed for my muscles to begin to tighten again, my hands desperately clutching the sheets to try and reroute the tension somewhere else. It was only barely working, and Wes must have felt the struggle as my walls closed around him and begged him to let me fall apart.

He saw how hard I was trying to follow his instruction, and he decided to make it much, _much_ worse.

“Look at you taking it all in so well,” he groaned, “You like to act feral, but you’re really just a little lap cat, desperate for attention from your owner.”

“W-Wes…” I whimpered more than said, trying to turn to see him over my shoulder but feeling him correct the movement with the leash.

Slamming into me with full force, I felt his hand bruising my hip while he brought me down against him even harder with each thrust forward. Through all of his labored breathing, he still managed to land another taunt.

“That’s right, kitten. I own you. You’re _mine_.”

I couldn’t argue with him.

“I’m yours,” I purred, wishing more than anything that it would be true long after the night ended. And if the way his thrusts began to falter was any indication, that ending was coming soon. It was a mercy and a shame, because while I desperately craved release, the idea of this experience coming to an end was equally devastating.

Wes must have read my mind, because with a tenderness unlike what he’d shown to me thus far, he let the tension leave his hand long enough to stroke my side when he asked, “Are you ready, sweet girl?”

Without a single second of hesitation, I screamed back, “Yes! Yes, God, please!”

“Come with me, kitten.”

My toes were already curling when he was able to answer, but I was glad that my body managed to hold on for just a second longer. Because just before the orgasm was about to wash over me, Wes forced my body up so that he could turn my face and capture my lips with his own.

I would call it a kiss, but it lacked any of the grace or romance typically associated with such a word. It was more like our tongues were seeking any sign of the other, our bodies fighting to be as close as they possibly could as he filled me one more time. The warmth that bloomed in my stomach was nothing compared to the flushing in my face that almost made his hands feel cold.

Realistically, I knew the moment was less than a minute, but it really did feel like a lifetime. Even after our bodies started to go limp, he kept pulling me closer and continued to kiss me until he could be sure that I was back to Earth.

My feet, however, were not back on Earth. Just as I had expected, I had been pushed far enough up the bed that when I tried to find the ground, I immediately stumbled. Luckily, Wes was ready to catch me without relying entirely on the leash that was still attached to my neck.

All it took was a swift move of his hand for that to no longer be true, and he actually took the extra step of removing my collar. I didn’t say anything — all of my efforts were dedicated to trying to will my lungs to work right again and for my heart to stop trying to race with my thoughts.

In that delirium, I somehow managed to mutter a single, stupid, “ _Wow_.”

Wes didn’t care much for my poor attempt at praise, though. After he had pulled out of me, he spun me around to rest against the bed. We would address the mess running down my legs later, since he had bigger concerns that were obvious enough by his fingers gingerly trailing over the column of my throat.

“How’s your neck feeling?”

“Who cares?” I giggled dreamily.

“I do,” he replied with his own laugh. 

Still struggling to stay upright, I tried to make it clear to him that my exhaustion was not in any way bad. My hands managed to make their way to his arms, and instead of grabbing hold like he’d expected, I ran my nails along his forearms. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, I felt the way goosebumps followed.

“My neck feels fine,” I reassured with my own clever little grin, “You’re very talented with a leash.”

“You should see what else I can do with it,” he answered without skipping a beat.

Immediately, my imagination was filled with ideas from him binding me with the rope to the sounds it would make coming down on my skin. “Oh, I really should,” I slurred. 

That was enough of a satisfying answer to earn me another kiss, and I took the opportunity to really enjoy the way his lips parted in an invitation to come closer. In fact, everything about him begged me to stay, to lose myself in him and not look back.

And I didn’t want to, either.

“Fuck, that girl is so stupid, Wes,” I said without thinking the moment the kiss ended, “I would marry you today if you asked me.”

Thankfully, he took it as a joke from a sex-addled brain and not a serious suggestion. Although, if it was always like that with him, I might have actually considered it. I think there was something else on his mind, too, because he looked uncharacteristically shy when he finally stopped laughing.

“I think a proposal would be strange considering, you know…” he mumbled.

“Considering what?”

With a cringe and yet another nervous chuckle, he cautiously replied, “I… still don’t know your name.”

Silence fell over the room. My jaw was dropped open so far that I honestly felt like a cartoon character, and I only barely squeaked out the word, “What?”

Wes just nodded in response, trying to stifle his laughter by biting down on his lips while I tried not to look as horrified and embarrassed as I felt.

“Are you serious? I never told you?” I asked one final time, trying to remember anything to prove him wrong. But of the very few perfectly clear memories, none of them included my name.

“Nope,” he said with a pop of his lips. “You’re just a little lost kitten.”

The humor was only a little appreciated. At least one of us thought it was more funny than humiliating that I had just let a man completely dominate me without ever even sharing my name.

I guess he hadn’t needed it. But I figured I should share it, anyway.

“It’s (y/n),” I murmured through a pout.

“Well, (y/n), it’s very nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand for me to shake.

I took it with an absolutely ridiculous smile as I said, “Likewise.”


End file.
